


Respite

by Fabrisse



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-10
Updated: 2011-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-24 11:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers: Season 3, Episode 03<br/>Summary:  Kurt and Blaine study and talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Respite

**Author's Note:**

> This is an episode tag. I'm not quite sure where it came from.

They'd gone to the Lima Bean right after school, and Kurt had insisted on paying and getting an assortment of Blaine's favorite biscotti as a treat for winning the lead in _West Side Story_.

Back at Kurt's house, they'd gone straight to Kurt's bedroom and set up their usual study stations on Kurt's bed.

Blaine stroked the lap desk Kurt had made for him and smiled. It was decoupaged with music and pictures from Dalton and had his name in gold leaf. There was a space for the cord on his laptop to come through and hook to it, and the bottom had a blue velveteen cover filled with buckwheat hulls. It was that kind of welcome and thoughtfulness that made him love Kurt so much.

Kurt looked up from his math homework and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Dreaming of your starring role?" he asked with a soft smile.

"No, thinking about you." He noticed Kurt turn his head away, which wasn't like him. "Is anything wrong?"

"No. Not wrong. I just feel like I've been kicked in the teeth a lot this week. The worst part is, I was one of the kickers."

Blaine realized he couldn't quite reach Kurt's hand so he stretched out his foot to rub against Kurt's calf. "I'm sorry about Tony."

"No, you're not. Or if you are, you shouldn't be. That's what I mean about kicking myself in the teeth." He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. "I'm going to say some things, and I need to get them out and I'm not trying to be hurtful, but… let me finish and then I'll listen to anything you need to say, okay?"

"Can we sit closer?"

Kurt smiled and rearranged his lap desk to scoot closer to Blaine.

"First, things first -- you gave an amazing audition. I didn't. Or, I did, but it wasn't the right audition for that part or that play or that audience. I thought I still had a shot at Riff or Bernardo, but I guess if you're not manly enough for the lead, you're still manly enough to play a beat cop." There was an edge to Kurt's voice. "I envy you a little bit. You… pass? Is that the right word?" He sighed and continued. "People like you. I get why, but sometimes I wonder why it's so hard for people to see me, to like me. But I'm going to get my talking points together and give the best damn speech I can for class president at the Senior Assembly. And, I may lose. I'll probably lose, but at least I'll have lost honestly with only one regret."

There was a long pause. Kurt kissed Blaine's temple and said, "Your turn."

"I'll help with the speech if you want me to. Anything you want or need for your campaign, I'll do it because I think you'll do your best to get McKinley out of the dark ages where bullying and stuff is concerned." Blaine brushed his thumb over the back of Kurt's hand. "What's the regret?"

"I hurt Brittany. And, yeah, if I'd kept her on my side, I'd have won easily, but that's not why I regret it."

"I know. You say things -- and I won't say you don't mean them because you do -- but …"

"I need to think them through before I say them because damage control is always worse than not doing the damage in the first place. If I thought Brittany would do anything for the school, I'd drop out and support her. But I don't think she will, or she'll only do it at Santana's behest, and that's not what I want in a class president." Kurt huffed a little laugh at the thought. "I know it sounds self-serving."

"Maybe a little, but then I remember who your opponents are, and you're right. You're the best choice."

Blaine leaned his head on Kurt's shoulder. "You also need to know something else. You're right, I'm likable, but I'm also… unmemorable?"

Kurt pulled back and looked at his boyfriend. "People are still talking about _It's Not Unusual_. 'I don't think that word means what you think it means.'"

"They remember the performance. They don't remember me. I'm likable. I'm easy -- not like sexually -- but easy to get along with."

Kurt draped an arm around Blaine's shoulders and said, "That's my point."

"It's not mine. You are not easy in any sense of the term." He reached out and cupped Kurt's chin. "I wish you could be easier on yourself, but maybe that's why I'm yours. To give you some ease. Because, Beautiful, people see you. You won't let them ignore you, and they will never feel anything as simple as 'like' for you because you make it clear that you're worth more than that. So people love you. Or fear you because you make them think and feel. Some hate you, and I will do everything in my power to keep them from ever hurting you. But you're not likable, you demand to be loved. And I do. So much."

Kurt gripped his shoulder more tightly. "How did I get so lucky? I love you, too." His fingers began to rub at the muscles under them. "Why don't I give you a congratulatory backrub?"

Blaine smiled. "You just want to get my shirt off."

Kurt stopped and said, "No. I mean, yes, I like…"

Blaine stopped him with a kiss. "I'm teasing. I would like to take rain check on the backrub. I love what your hands can do."

Kurt blushed and opened his mouth to say something.

Blaine kissed him again and said, "How much homework do you have tonight?"

"Another twenty minutes on the math, some reading for civics, and a short French essay. I've already finished my English assignment for this week. Call it two hours."

"Can you do it after I leave tonight?"

"So we're making out?" Kurt looked hopeful.

Blaine laughed softly. "We can, but I just realized we always end up with you supporting me, physically at least."

"Just because I'm two inches taller."

"I know, but it seems wrong. Come here." Blaine sat up and opened his legs and arms. Kurt looked at him askance and then settled down against his chest, fidgeting a bit. "What's wrong?" Blaine asked.

"It's a little weird on my back," Kurt said apologetically.

Blaine grabbed a pillow off the bed and slid it under Kurt's back before tugging him back to his chest. This time he felt Kurt relax against him, and Blaine wrapped his arms around him tightly, twining his legs along Kurt's.

"That feels so good," Kurt whispered. "You know, I told Dad that there were really only two Broadway shows I could play the lead in, and I want more than that. Is that shallow?"

Blaine brushed his lips against Kurt's ear. "It isn't. You're ambitious. But I've thought of the perfect role for you, _The Scarlet Pimpernel_." He hummed a snatch of a tune, " _Never hold back your step for a moment, Never doubt that your courage will grow, Hold your head even higher and into the fire we go._ If that isn't your theme song, then I don't know you as well as I thought I did."

There was a choked sob and Kurt's hand clenched Blaine's bicep tightly.

"Shh. Rest with me. Tomorrow, I'll follow you into whatever fire you need to walk through." He petted Kurt soothingly, smiling to himself.

***  
Two hours later, Burt came up to get them for dinner. Kurt was sound asleep against Blaine who was reading from a textbook at an awkward angle.

"I'll tell Carole to set another place."

"Thank you, sir." He started to wake Kurt gently.

"Did you get your homework done?"

"No, but I'm sure we'll be fine by tomorrow."

Burt nodded. "Dinner's just sauerkraut, mashed potatoes, and turkey kielbasa. I hope that's all right."

Blaine nodded.

Kurt blinked and said, "Dad. Can Blaine stay to dinner?"

"It's already taken care of, son. Hurry up and wash your hands. Dinner's ready."

**Author's Note:**

>  _The song Into the Fire is from  the musical version of The Scarlet Pimpernel by Frank Wildhorn (music) and Nan Knighton (book and lyrics)._


End file.
